


Un-hex-pected

by Entwinedlove



Series: Bingo Bonanza 2019 [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff Bingo Quarter 2, Hexworld AU, Not Tony Stark Friendly, Shifters, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 00:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18727837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwinedlove/pseuds/Entwinedlove
Summary: Natasha is picked up by a handsome man who turns out to be her witch.





	Un-hex-pected

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Fluff Bingo](https://fluffbingo.dreamwidth.org/) card #35, Square N4 - Discovery and also [Bucky Barnes Bingo](https://buckybarnesbingo.tumblr.com/) Square C4 - Bucky with a white cat
> 
> [Hexworld](https://www.goodreads.com/series/175934-hexworld) is a series of books by Jordan L. Hawk. It has shifters and witches and when they team up they can create magic.

[ ](https://imgur.com/cZmZ0cC)

Natasha, in cat form, darted in between the legs of the people on the subway. She hated the crowds but not as much as the wet streets above. She was supposed to be meeting Pepper, Peggy and Sharon for a lunch date but was running late because of the rain.

"Oh, Mommy look! A cat! I want it!" a grubby-looking child with scraggly hair shouted from behind her.

Natasha's white fur bristled at the idea of ownership even though the child didn't know any better. She darted past the turnstiles and out the emergency exit right under the feet of a portly older man with a cane. She could feel him teetering on unsteady legs as she slipped past but didn't look back. She twitched her ears behind her to hear if the man fell but there were so many people it was hard to hear one way or another.

At the top of the steps she had a choice. Stay in cat form despite the rain because she could probably get through the rush of people a bit faster or shift back and brace for her clothes to be wet and soggy by the end despite her umbrella?

Although she was standing at the very edge of the steps, a rushing woman in heels stepped on her front paw. That made her decision for her. Before the woman got two feet ahead of her, Natasha had shifted and called out, "Watch it!" The woman turned back with a confused look on her face and her phone pressed against the side of her head but kept on walking like she didn't know what she'd done. Natasha sighed, tucked her coat tighter around her and opened her umbrella. The back of her fingers were already starting to swell from being stepped on and she alternated tightening her fist to embrace the pain and relaxing it to keep it from aching too much.

Being a shifter in the city was rough. Shifters and their witches were minorities among the population and though they weren't overtly discriminated against, the normals of the populous weren't very generous or aware of them. There were still leash laws for regular animals and if a shifter wasn't fast enough or wearing a fucking collar they could be picked up, stuffed into small animal cages that were too small for a human, and taken to shelters for stray animals around the city. Sometimes it wasn't until they were being pulled out of their cages for euthanasia that they were able to shift back and explain what was going on. Then the shifter—or their witch if they had one—would be fined for taking up precious space in the facilities. There had been a few cases where desperate shifters had attempted to shift in the too small cages. The results were often horrific. If the shifters had a surviving witch, shifter-witch lawyer teams tended to take on those cases _pro bono._ Not that it did any good for the poor dead shifters.

Natasha was one of the rebels who refused to wear a collar. She didn't have a witch—nor did she want one. She did not want to be owned or even wear the facsimile of ownership. Not that shifters with witches thought they were owned but from the way the law treated shifters on their own versus those with witches, well, it was obvious what the law and society thought about it.

Pepper had a witch. Natasha had met him. He was arrogant and egotistical and didn't treat Pepper with all that much respect. Witches and Shifters were supposed to be soulmates, after all, but he didn't seem to understand that. Or rather, he did understand but didn't care. Pepper had cried on Natasha's shoulder once about how she still found other women in Tony's bed even after their bonding ceremony. Pepper's witch wasn't the only bad example of witches that Natasha had seen. She'd grown up hearing horror stories of abusive witches, draining their shifters dry for their magic, destroying what was supposed to be a sacred bond.

The wind swept down the sidewalk and caught her umbrella, almost yanking it out of her hand completely before it turned it inside out. "Shit," she muttered, "Useless thing." She shoved it into the next closest trash bin on the sidewalk and stood there a moment. She still had another block to go before she got to the bistro where she was supposed to meet her friends. A fat drop of rain slid down the neckline of her shirt. She huffed and shifted again. Wet fur, although a discomfort, wasn't as bad as soggy clothes. She scurried down the sidewalk.

She paused at the last crosswalk, tucked under the legs of a tall man holding a black umbrella. Before the light changed for them to walk she felt herself being hauled up into his arms. "What are you doing out here, little cat?" the man asked. The crowd and the traffic were noisy and she didn't think he heard her low growling. He didn't seem to notice her struggles even as he turned back the way they had come. It wasn't until she saw where he was taking her that she started trying to get away in earnest. There was a cat cafe just behind them.

The bell clanked over the door when they entered and Natasha struggled even more, engaging her claw in an attempt to get away. She was aware she'd drawn blood even as she landed on her feet and shifted. She turned around to find a brunet with grey eyes and four well-placed slices starting to bleed across his jaw.

In the instant their eyes met, she discovered exactly three things. One, this man was absolutely gorgeous and exactly her type. Two, he was her soul-mated witch.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't realize you—well." He glanced around, shrugged, and smiled at her. "I'm Bucky."

Thirdly, her anti-witch plans were screwed.


End file.
